by W. D. Newman
CHAPTER 3
ULTIMATUM
Gob and Nob stood on top of the south east gate tower conversing with Marcus, the Keeper. The final west gate was hung yesterday and the first massive east gate was slowly making its way through the strange trees that surrounded Castle Twilight. These gate doors were built and assembled in a small mining town called Mountain Rest. The town was located at the foot of the Iron Bones, right below the West Gate of the great dwarven kingdom of Dwarvenhall. Once the carpenters and blacksmiths completed a door, a group of wheelwrights attached giant spoked wheels to temporary axles mounted beneath the door. When the door was ready for shipment, a team of twelve ponies were used to pull the door to the Twilight.
"The final gate will not be ready for at least another week," said Nob. "If we get this one hung today that will give us plenty of time to throw up scaffolding for the stables. Another shipment of stone is on the way too."
The stone was mined from the hills around Mountain Rest and the timber was harvested from the town's surrounding forests. Since construction began on Castle Twilight, much had changed in the dismal little mining town. Now, people had work to do and money to show for it. Commerce between Mountain Rest and Dwarvenhall once again began to flourish. The guard towers at the base of the Iron Bones, below Dwarvenhall's West Gate, had been reconstructed. The new iron gates that hung between the two towers had been forged by the townspeople of Mountain Rest and presented to the dwarves of Dwarvenhall as a gift. A broad highway, paved with flagstones, led into heart of the now booming little town and on any given night you could find dwarves and men, gathered in taverns, sitting together at tables, enjoying cold tankards of ale.
Gob started to weigh in with his opinion on the construction of the stables, but a strange shuffling sound interrupted him. The sound was loud, like a thousand birds taking flight at once. As they looked across the forest, they did see hundreds of birds rise up and take flight, but this noise came not from the birds, but from the trees themselves.
The trees in the Twilight forest, the dwarves had learned, were called Faerie Oaks. They were brought here as young saplings, from the elves’ home world of Faerie. They did not resemble any of the trees in Camelot and, unlike other hardwoods, the Faerie Oaks kept their foliage year round. The unique thing about the Faerie Oaks however was that they were aware of their surroundings and were able to interact physically with their environment. From the top of the tower, the Keeper and the two dwarves stared down at the tree tops in amazement. Every leaf on every tree was quivering violently.
"What's going on?" Gob cried.
Marcus quickly scanned the skies. When he spotted what he was searching for, and what he was hoping not to find, his face paled. "Everyone inside," he yelled.
Immediately, screams and shouts rose up from the courtyard within the castle. The dwarves that were assembling the giant cranes on top of the tower threw down their tools and fled. As these dwarves tried to escape down the tower stairs, elves from the ground below were ascending with long bows, bright swords, and sharp spears. Then amidst the confusion, a powerful roar split the air and Zoltan plummeted from the skies. The dragon crashed into the castle wall and the rushing wind from his great wings slammed into Gob and Nob, knocking them backwards to the ground. Marcus, however, stood fast and unfazed as the Twilight elves rushed to his side to protect him.
As the dust settled, Zoltan completely ignored the pandemonium that was taking place all around him. The dragon's size was terrifying. Huge muscles bulged along his spiny back and rippled beneath the glistening black scales as he folded his wings down to his sides. After stretching much like a cat upon wakening after a long nap, Zoltan slowly and very casually rose up on his hind legs and grasped the rim of the tower. With his long neck, he was able to look down at everyone on top of the tower.
"Where is Merlin?" he asked. His voice was commanding and yet, at the same time, musical and hypnotic.
Marcus squared his shoulders and answered the dragon. "Merlin is no longer with us. He is many centuries gone from Camelot."
"He is dead?"
The Keeper nodded.
Zoltan seemed to ponder this information for several seconds and then asked, "How is it that you live? My eyes do not deceive me, we have met. Have we not?"
"We have met. We here in the Twilight are called elves and our years are indeed long. Merlin was of the human race. Their light, though exceedingly bright, does not burn long in this world."
"Ah, I remember you now. Because of Merlin, I have been asleep for many years, but it is coming back to me. I burned your city, did I not?"
"You did."
"And you think these stone walls will keep you safe from my fires?"
"We know your strength and your might, Zoltan, son of Zog. These castle walls would not stand before you."
Zoltan seemed pleased with the Keeper's answer and then he spied the two dwarves cowering in fear behind the elf. "Ah-ha! What have we here? I have yet to taste a worm from Crag and here are two, right in front of me. Although there does not appear to be much meat on their bones, but still, I am curious..."
Marcus stepped between Zoltan and the two terrified dwarves.
"These two are under my protection and you shall not harm them. Tell us what you want and be gone from here."
For a brief second, Zoltan appeared amused by the elf. Then he lowered his head and his eyes narrowed to thin yellow slits as he came face to face with the Keeper. The elves pulled their bowstrings back and advanced with their swords and spears, but Marcus held his hand up to halt them.
"I," Zoltan whispered, "....want....it....ALL...." The dragon whipped his long neck toward the forest and spewed forth a column of fire into the Faerie Oaks. The blast of heat from the furnace of the dragon's belly scorched everyone on top of the tower. Marcus watched in dismay as the trees caught in the path of the dragon's breath disintegrated like dry straw. Rather than tapering off, the dragon's fire grew stronger and Zoltan pointed his head skyward, sending a torrential rain of flames down upon the castle. Everyone scurried down the steps and inside the stone tower to escape the falling inferno.
When the river of fire finally ceased to flow from his mouth, Zoltan launched himself into the sky. He hovered over the castle, his huge wings pumping air into the burning forest and spawning a giant tornado of dust and fire. "You asked me what I want," he roared. "I will tell you. Bring me Merlin's staff. It is buried beneath my resting place in the Black Hills with one from the Twilight who travels with a worm from Crag. I will return here in one week and if you do not have the staff, I will destroy the rest of your forest. There will not be one tree standing, not one stone left sitting upon another when I am finished."
Zoltan pumped his wings with long, powerful strokes that sent him soaring high above the Twilight. He circled the burning trees twice and then flew away toward the east. The dwarves and elves inside the tower listened as the beating of his wings faded into the distance. Once certain that he was gone, everyone sprang into action. The dwarves attended the flames that were burning on the castle structures, while the elves rushed to battle the fires in the forest, outside the castle walls.
The contents that a dragon spews from its belly will burn until it consumes itself or until it is smothered and deprived of air. For this reason, the very stones of the castle walls and towers appeared to be in flames and the dwarves soon learned that water would not quench these flames, but only served to spread them. They finally decided to ignore all of the fires that were burning upon anything stone and concentrate on saving the wooden structures. Heavy wet blankets were brought up from the river to smother the flames. The elves, however, could do nothing to save any trees that were still burning. The Faerie Oaks that were unscathed had pulled back from the dragon fires. However, the ones that were still burning, in an apparent act of sacrifice, pulled close together in a tight knot. The flames greedily consumed them, sending smoke and ash billowing into t
he gray winter skies.
As soon as the fires were under control, everyone began to assemble in the castle courtyard and Marcus mounted the tower stairs to address the crowd. Elves, dwarves and humans, with shocked and hollow expressions, turned to the Keeper for an answer.
"We are all shaken and dismayed by what has just taken place here. Thankfully, there has been no loss of life among those present here today, but our beloved forest has suffered a terrible blow. I do not know how this has come to pass, but as you have seen and heard, Zoltan has been wakened and will return in one week's time. If we do not have the staff of Merlin here to present to him, he will destroy the Twilight. I suspect his plans are to destroy the Twilight, regardless of whether we find the staff or not. For that reason, all construction on Castle Twilight will cease as of this moment and preparations must begin for evacuation. Our people will be returning to Faerie and the good dwarves shall return to Dwarvenhall. I hope they will offer sanctuary to the people of Mountain Rest as well."
"Are we just giving up then?" Nob yelled from the crowd.
"No," Marcus answered. "We are not giving up. We are just being prudent. We are preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. Zoltan was relieved to learn of Merlin's passing, but I suspect he sensed the power in the spell catcher on Merlin's staff and fears that someone else might be able to use the wizard's stone against him as Merlin did. We will not give him the staff, but we will retrieve it and, hopefully, we will find Gabriel and Hob alive when we do."
"What will we do once we have the staff?" someone called.
"I do not know," Marcus answered, shaking his head, "but we have only seven days to figure it out."
"I know who we need!" Nob cried while yanking on his beard. "We need Ben!"
"Yes!" Gob agreed. "Ben would know what to do. I wonder if his inhaler would stop the dragon."
“I don't know, but he has a spell catcher too."
"You're right, Nob! A spell catcher AND an inhaler! Yes, we must get Ben at once, but how?"
"We must get Amos. He can contact Louise and then Louise can contact Ben. He has the golden leaf that Marcus gave him. He and Casey could be here in an instant."
"Right again, Nob. Why didn't I think of this? Grab the ponies; we must be off at once!"
"Hold up, dear friends," Marcus called to the two dwarves who were already pushing their way through the crowd. Ben was just a child, but he was instrumental in the destruction of the witch this past summer. Marcus had foreseen the many paths that would lead to the witch's demise and Ben was present in every path that unfolded before him. However, the paths of future events, where Zoltan was concerned, were hidden from him. Could Ben possibly save Camelot yet again? He did fulfill the first prophecy and after the downfall of the witch, and the permanent exile of Mordred, Marcus was almost certain that he was the one. Yet there were still more parts of the prophecy to be fulfilled. Not knowing the answer, Marcus was loath to bring him into this dangerous situation. However, he would dearly love to have the shape shifter called Amos and his friend Louise here. He valued their counsel greatly.
"You cannot go running off like this, with no plans and no preparation. I will send Jonah with you, and you shall ride on the backs of our swiftest elfin horses. We have much need for speed."
As the crowd began to disperse, to plan and prepare for evacuation, Jonah appeared at the two dwarves’ sides. "Come with me to the stables. We shall be leaving at once."
Gob and Nob followed the elf to the two story log structure that served as a temporary stable. The lower level had a wide hall that ran from the front entrance of the building to the rear entrance. On both sides of this hallway, from one end of the building to the other, were stalls and tack rooms. The upper level, however, was one large open space filled with sweet smelling timothy hay and orchard grass.
Three of the spirited black horses were already saddled and waiting for them when they arrived. The horses pranced about and fidgeted, eager to be off and to stretch their legs. Gob and Nob much preferred ponies over horses, but this time they did not object to being placed on the back of a horse. This time, after witnessing the power and might of a black dragon from Crag firsthand, they wanted the fastest horses they could find.
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