The Chronicles of Amberdrake

by Loren K. Jones

  “That is of no consequence, dog. We are of the Light, and in the Light we will camp, not in shadow like the Dark Ones,” the man behind Drake hissed. The general ignored him, concentrating on his men and looking bored.

  A noise from the inn drew Drake’s attention, and he almost cursed when men began rolling barrels out of the door. Thieves! Worse was to come, for the men began breaking the barrels, spilling the fine ale and beer on the ground. “My beer...” Drake began, but was silenced by a blow from behind.

  “Silence, dog!” the man shouted, striking Drake on the back of the head. “Such beverages are of the dark, and to the dark they will be returned.”

  Drake remained silent, but his eyes betrayed his feelings as even the bottles of wine he had hoarded away were brought out and smashed. The general paid scant attention to Drake or the happenings in the inn. He was waiting for the arrival of the High Priest of Revven. A field altar was already being erected for the ceremony, and the men were moving into formation. As the sun set, the High Priest arrived.

  High Priest Inven Lightenhouse walked calmly to the altar and looked down onto the general and his men. Lowly men, one and all, there were few of the anointed among them. Still, this was just the advanced guard of the Armies of Revven. The setting of the sun was the time for prayer, and he led the massed men in the chant that called on Revven to return the sun in the morning.

  Drake sat in the dirt of the road, listening with fascination as the priest spoke, condemning almost everything and everyone. The troops chanted the words back, accepting that they were the chosen, and that they were destined to rule the world. With the last rays of the sun glinting off the altar, the priest called for the sacrifice. A young man was brought forward and made to kneel before the altar. Drake could see his face, and was surprised by the blissful smile and serene look in the boy’s eyes. Either he was drugged, which Drake thought most likely, or he was a fanatical believer.

  A shimmer in the air announced the arrival of the God. The form materialized, and a large man stood on the altar. He was tall and heavily muscled, like a wrestler. Golden hair and a golden beard glimmered in the fading light, seeming to glow with an inner radiance of their own. Even the God’s eyes glowed, and Drake could see the flicker of flames as He looked at the sacrifice. The sacrifice looked up at the God with adoration shining in his eyes. Another flicker and they were both gone, and the priest called an end to the day. Soldiers filed off to their tents, and Drake watched as lanterns were lit to drive away every shadow.

  Drake was allowed to return to his inn for the night. Looking out the window of his room he could see that the lanterns were still lit. The followers of Revven apparently slept in the light. Morning saw the arrival of the opposing Army of Hellis.

  Hellis, Goddess of War, was the sworn enemy of Revven. Or at least the priests said so as they faced off across Drake’s one remaining field. The followers of Hellis had arrived during the night, and had set up her altar. Now, the high priest summoned his goddess. In a mirror image scene to the arrival of Revven, Hellis arrived, shimmering into existence at Her priest’s call. She was tall and slender, and Her dark hair flowed over Her armor and Her eyes did not reflect any light at all.

  Revven flickered into being as the armies faced off. “Surrender, vile darkness. You cannot exist in the light!” he shouted, drawing a cheer from His followers.

  “The night shall take you all, Revven!” Hellis shouted back. Then she transformed. The humans saw a tall, female form, much as she appeared to them on Her altar. Drake saw a female dragon. She was darkness personified, with black scales on her back and wings, and deep blue scales under her wings and on her belly.

  Revven likewise transformed. He was golden brown on top, and pale-yellow underneath. Drake saw the two dragons and moaned. They were both adolescents, not more than fourteen or fifteen hundred years old. During his second mating season, after the last battles had been fought, he and Corandrake had discussed what it was to be a dragon. Much to Amberdrake’s surprise, Corandrake was a philosopher, and once the urges of the season were dealt with he loved to hold forth with his theories. He had explained, to a number of young dragons as well as Amberdrake, that many of the human gods were in fact young dragons. Dragons, as with most thinking beings, craved respect. Lacking the size and age to gain respect among their own kind, youngsters often received the respect they needed by cultivating lesser beings, such as humans. Amberdrake, the poor, foolish human adolescent, had asked about Hammar, the God the people of Chanders had worshipped, and been introduced to Hammardrake. He was still a youth, though he had reached his maturity and had participated in five mating seasons. Seeing the God of his father in the flesh was a surprise. Then he had asked about the being who had made him a dragon, and been quickly silenced.

  “Those, young Amberdrake, are not to be discussed. To speak their name is to summon them, and they do not take well to such summoning. Even dragons must fear such as they,” Corandrake had all but whispered, and his obvious fear had kept Amberdrake silent for several days.

  Sahrendrake had explained other aspects of godhead to Amberdrake. She had told him of a land in the far eastern marches of the continent where she had been worshipped as Lady Sahren, lands he had visited during his early travels. She had also explained that battles between two such “gods” often involved their human followers. It was a problem as, at that age, dragons had been known to kill one another, and the followers of their foe as well. Self-control among dragons, as with humans, was a learned trait that came with maturity.

  Revvendrake and Hellisdrake challenged one another as the armies of their followers charged. Sword and spear clashed, and men died as the two young dragons grappled. In time, Revvendrake might well fight to mate with Hellisdrake, but now they were the bitterest of enemies. Hours passed until the dragons broke away from one another. Then the armies disengaged as well, dragging their dead and wounded back to their lines.

  “You will never win, Hellisdrake!” Revvendrake shouted in the language of the dragons, his roar echoing across the plain like thunder.

  “I will see your bones rotting in the sun, Revvendrake!” Hellisdrake shouted back, her voice just a bit higher than his.

  “I need a drink,” Drake mumbled as he walked away, returning to his inn and its empty shelves.

  Morning saw reinforcements arrive for both armies, and the battle rejoined. The two dragons were well matched, and they grappled and fought in an effort to get a disabling hold on the other. They were, surprisingly, not biting. Scars on each of them showed that they had, at some time, sunk their teeth into one another. Drake sat on his porch, rocking in a chair and shaking his head as they tussled.

  “Kids,” he muttered to himself.

  Days passed and both armies tried to enlist Drake into their ranks, but did not succeed. One old man was not worth trying very hard to get. Drake watched his fields trampled into dust, then to mud when a summer storm swept in. Still the armies fought, and men died for the glory of their gods.

  More men were arriving every day, and Drake soon found himself being thrown out of his inn by the followers of Revvendrake. Where General Glowingbright had stayed in his tent, General Lord Nellin Starshine, Supreme Commander of the Armies of Hellis and High Priest of the Temple of Night, was not inclined to sleep in a tent. The solid walls and stout roof of the inn were more to his tastes.

  Drake had protested, more for form than for any other reason, and had been smacked around a little. He had expected it, and had protected himself so that he did not receive any real damage from the beating. As he walked away, he looked back at the massed men and shook his head. The armies were once again gathering to do battle.

  The road into Deverand led Drake to the town of Shelving Heights after ten days of walking. He was well known here, and had accounts with the Gold Merchants that he could draw upon, but he had not counted on the war having reached so far south. Eldon Forden, the innkeeper at the Smiling Pig, met Drake on the porch. “Drake! I did
n’t think to ever see you again. Did the armies pass you by then?”

  “No, Eldon, they didn’t. The bastards are fighting their little war right in my fields,” Drake answered as he took a chair in the shade. “My inn and everything else is gone.”

  “Much the same story here, I am afraid. When the army moved through they took just about all the food. People have been hunting old acorns and pine nuts to eat, and those who have the means have fled. The Gold Merchants have all gone and taken their gold with them. If you were looking for your money, it is south in Freehaven or Glanvinsdale by now.”

  “That is not what I wanted to hear, Eldon,” Drake murmured. “Damn those two!”

  “Indeed, Drake. Damn them indeed, but quietly. The followers of Hellis have left behind their people as the new leaders of the town.”

  Drake spent one hungry night as the guest of his friend, then traveled on. The countryside was desolate, and he became angrier as each league passed beneath his aching feet. Finally, he decided that he had had enough. Cloth shredded as Amberdrake rose on his haunches and bellowed at the sky.

  The first order of business was finding something to eat. Rising high into the sky, he searched for anything edible that was still moving. Diving from the sky, he fell upon a herd of deer and quickly satisfied his hunger. Then he again took to the air and flew toward the north, and the squabbling youngsters.

  Revvendrake and Hellisdrake were rolling in the dirt, grappling like wrestlers, when Amberdrake arrived. A massive blow from his tail separated the two, sending Revvendrake tumbling away into his own men.

  “That is enough!” Amberdrake bellowed, his voice echoing across the land.

  Hellisdrake was stunned from the blow, and from the sight of Amberdrake glowering down at her. As impressive as the younger dragons were, they were both little more than one hundred feet in length from nose to tail. Amberdrake was almost two hundred feet long, and he towered over the youngsters.

  Revvendrake raised his head and looked back toward Hellisdrake. He saw a very large adult male squatting on his haunches where they had been fighting, tapping one enormous hindclaw on the packed soil. Worse, he recognized the elder as Amberdrake, and knew that he had best behave.

  “Come over here, Revvendrake,” Amberdrake commanded, and Revvendrake crawled over to him, his head close to the ground in submission. Looking down at Hellisdrake and Revvendrake, Amberdrake made his displeasure evident. “I have had enough of this. These humans worship you, and all you can think of to do with them is have them slaughter one another. This little squabble ends now. Or do I have to get involved?”

  Both Hellisdrake and Revvendrake kept their heads low as Amberdrake scolded them. It’s just a game! Doesn’t he know that? But neither of them had the audacity to speak.

  The humans saw the elder God standing above their deities and fell back in horror. Each army was led by priests, true believers who would gladly give their lives for the greater glory of their God. But here was an even greater God, obviously older, and the roaring of his voice was like the sound of the fiercest of summer storms. He was standing, arms crossed and tapping one foot on the ground, much like an elder scolding a pair of miscreants. The priests began to look about, unsure of themselves for the first time. Were their gods nothing more than squabbling children? Was their cause the cause of right, or simply a spat between youngsters?

  Amberdrake glowered at the two youngsters, then snarled. “Revvendrake, it will be a millennium before we meet in season. But I will not forget this episode.” Turning slightly less angry eyes on Hellisdrake, he sighed. “As for you, your time will come sooner. Perhaps.” With that, he was gone, beating his wings strongly to gain altitude.

  Revvendrake watched him go, then looked at Hellisdrake. “One day...” he murmured, anger tainting his voice.

  “One day...” Hellisdrake agreed, though the emotion in her voice was more akin to adoration. Then the two dragons disappeared, each to find another place, and other worshipers, leaving the armies who had fought for them staring at one another, and doubting their cause.

  * * *

  The peace between the followers of Revven and Hellis was uneasy, but it was no longer a declared war. Each withdrew to their homes, each claiming victory, and each wondering just exactly who the Great Father God was.

  * * *

  Rochelle was again giggling as she pointed one wavering finger at Drake. “I can just imagine you standing there like a disapproving Elder, glaring at those kids.”

  “Speaking of kids,” Saunder said as he looked at Drake, “can you have children? You made it sound like you can’t.”

  Drake looked toward the floor and shook his head. “No. Mellody knows.” He glanced at his wife and smiled sadly.

  “We have decided to adopt some children, in addition to the students we will be teaching,” Mellody said, looking at Rochelle.

  “You talked about that before, Mellody,” Rochelle said in a thoughtful tone. “Years ago, after Daddy made us watch that maid give birth.”

  Mellody was nodding rapidly. “I never wanted to go through that, so I was always careful not to get pregnant.” She stopped as he lips pulled into a frown. “King Bevan did that on purpose to make sure we didn’t!”

  “Until we’re married, at least,” Rochelle said with a sly grin for Saunder.

  Adventure 14

  The Demon of Peregrine Falls

  A COLD WIND BLEW A STRANGER to the gates of Peregrine Falls. He was young and well dressed, even though he was afoot. The gate guards watched him as he walked down the road, holding his hat as the wind blew his fine cloak tightly against his back and legs. He was of middling height, almost short for this region, but something about him made the guards straighten their uniforms and come to attention as he arrived.

  “What city is this?” the stranger asked in accented, but understandable, Forinstanian.

  “This is Peregrine Falls, Lord,” the elder of the guards replied.

  Nodding, the man started to walk through the gates, but the guard stopped him. “Your forgiveness, Lord, but we must ask a few questions before you may enter. What is your name, if you please?” They were cautious but respectful. Lords could be touchy about being accosted by common guards.

  The young lord looked him dead in the eye before he answered. “Drake Standralson.”

  The guard almost took an involuntary step back. The lord’s eyes were golden, like a cat’s. “Yes, Lord. And where are you coming from, if you please?”

  Drake looked at him, then nodded back over his shoulder. “Back that way. My horse died three days ago. I don’t remember the last town I passed, but it was more than a week’s ride away. I decided to take a short-cut across the hills.” His reply was accompanied by a wry twist of his mouth that was not quite a smile. “I should have known better.”

  “Aye, Lord. Where will you be staying, if you have a preference?” the elder guard asked, noting his name and direction of travel in the gate log.

  Now Drake smiled. “I am looking for an inn affiliated with Amberdrake’s Children.”

  The guard returned the smile. “Ah, a good choice, Lord. The Golden Wing is straight ahead, on your right. It’s a fair walk, but shouldn’t take more than half a mark to reach.”

  Drake looked about as the guard wrote in his book. “It’s odd to be questioned like this. Most towns welcome travelers with open arms.”

  The elder guard nodded. “So did we in the past, but these are troubled times. The Golden Wing will see you well settled.”

  Drake cocked an eyebrow at that comment, then nodded and walked on, glancing to the sides as he did so. Building styles had changed as he had traveled farther from home. The buildings of this town were half-timber, over a bottom half of fitted stone, and roofed with cedar shingles rather than thatch. It was an attractive arrangement, but far different from the wood and thatch that was prevalent in his hometown of Chanders.

  The Golden Wing was indeed a fair walk from the gates, but one he enjoyed. Pe
regrine Falls was a prosperous little city. The only thing he thought of as being odd was that wherever children played there were adult watchers. Watchers who focused on him as soon as he appeared and continued to watch him until he was gone.

  The Golden Wing was a large inn, even by the standards of Amberdrake’s Children. Three stories towered above him, and the windows were all glazed. Opening the door, the first sound he heard was a woman’s wail of despair. It was coming from the back, and he immediately headed for it. A serving man caught him half way across the floor.

  “Good sir, please have a seat. What may I bring you?”

  Drake looked him in the eye and demanded, “Who is crying, and why?”

  “Lord, please, that’s Mistress Angela. They found little Erica this morning…” The man’s voice failed as tears filled his eyes. “The Hunter took her,” he whispered.

  Drake looked at him with a puzzled expression. “I’m new here. Who is the Hunter?”

  The man looked up as a tear trickled down his cheek. “Someone has been taking children. Girls. They come back carved like an animal.” The man paused to swallow and wipe at his eyes. “They call him the Hunter for lack of a name.”

  Drake immediately turned toward the back room, striding forward as the server caught at his sleeve. “Please, Lord, it’s a family crisis.”

  “My family. I am Drake Standralson, Adept Mage of Amberdrake’s Children. Let go of my sleeve.” The anger in his voice and the glow of rage in his amber eyes made the server step back. Again striding forward, Drake paused just outside of the door and then eased through.

  Three women were in the backroom; two huddled about the shoulders of the third. Drake’s entrance caused the two that were hovering to look up, but he raised a hand to quiet them. Stepping closer, he focused on the crying woman and went to one knee.